A Christmas Spent at the Bar Can Be Joyous, Too

Christmas at the bar doesn’t have to be a scene out of “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Everett Collection

By ROSIE SCHAAP

December 10, 2013

Poor George Bailey. As if he weren’t already teetering on the edge, a Christmas Eve visit to a bar is no help to Jimmy Stewart’s desperate protagonist in “It’s a Wonderful Life.” Just before resolving to end it all, he gets hammered at the hands of one of the least agreeable barmen on film in a bar where even an angel gets no respect.

Then there’s Jack Lemmon’s hapless C. C. Baxter in “The Apartment,” who is forced out of his lodgings on Christmas so his no-good boss can rendezvous there with his mistress, leaving Baxter with no choice but to repair to a saloon. There he finds a great thrum of festivity, but the merriment, as conceived by the brilliantly cynical Billy Wilder, is hollow at its core. Baxter chain-smokes and drinks martini after martini, fraternizing miserably with a fellowship of the forlorn.

The message from these Hollywood classics is clear: a bar is no place to be at Christmas. It’s a last resort, the bottom of the barrel, a holiday holding pen for losers and lowlifes, the unloved and unlucky.

I’ve been there.

I’ve never had it as bad as Bailey or Baxter, but I wasn’t exactly in a jolly mood the first time I spent a good portion of my holiday in a bar. I think it was the winter of my junior year in college. I came home to New York to celebrate with my family and got into a screaming match with my mother at the dinner table on Christmas Day.

So I did what any self-respecting, angst-ridden young person would do: I excused myself from the table, took a walk, had a good sulk, ate some Chinese food, saw a movie and, as my last stop before returning home, hit a bar. No place special. Nowhere I had been before.

But instead of finding despair in there, I encountered a measure of cheer and comfort that had eluded me at home, at least that year. I had a whiskey and a few beers, and I enjoyed a nice chat with a friendly bartender, a couple of customers who had to work most of the day and another who was newish to New York.

I felt much better. I think we all did.

It turns out that around the holidays, bars do exactly what they are always supposed to do: provide a place to blow off steam far from the demands of home or office. This season may be the most treasured time to spend with family, but it can also foment discord. Expectations are high. Our homes are supposed to be festively decked out. Our cooking should be perfectly timed and unimpeachably delicious.

With the holidays come pressure, whether we spend them with our families or not. And the bar is one place that can relieve that pressure.

Like those whom I met during college break, many of the people you’ll find at bars during the holidays are trying to relax after a workday or are new to town. But it’s not a default for everyone; for some of us, it’s a choice.

I am not alone in my view that a bar can be a source of holiday comfort. “I don’t know if it’s anything special,” the playwright Peter Gil-Sheridan said of Christmas at Flannery’s Bar, an Irish dive on West 14th Street, “but it is to me.”

Mr. Gil-Sheridan found the bar years ago, when he was cat-sitting for a friend in the neighborhood. That friend later moved, but Mr. Gil-Sheridan, who lives in Brooklyn, still returns almost every Christmas to Flannery’s, where the management serves a free turkey feast. “I love that they unceremoniously put out some turkey and potatoes and stuffing and gravy,” he said. “There’s no announcement. It’s just there in the back because it’s Christmas, so of course there’s some turkey around. And you kind of discover it and think, ‘Yeah, I’ll have some of that.’ ”

Last year, Mr. Gil-Sheridan and his partner had to fly to London on Christmas, but they considered taking a night flight so they could spend the day at Flannery’s. “In the end, we decided against it, but I missed it,” he said.

There are others whose bar Christmases have more closely resembled George Bailey’s. The British-born author and bartender Gary Regan recalled Christmas in 1975, his first in New York City. He was manning the bar at Drake’s Drum, an Upper East Side establishment he describes as “a neighborhood joint that attracted rugby players and their groupies” as well as lawyers, plumbers and artists.

Mr. Regan didn’t relish the idea of working on Christmas, but his boss assured him the tips would make it worthwhile. Nearly 40 years later, he remembers this as the worst bar shift of his life. Each customer was surlier than the last. “There was a damned good reason nobody had invited them anywhere,” he said,

I’ve spent Christmas on the working side of a bar, too, at South in South Park Slope, Brooklyn. Last year, Christmas fell on a Tuesday, the day of my usual shift. I opened the bar at 5 p.m. The first hour was dead and foot traffic on Fifth Avenue was thin. “Why am I doing this?” I wondered, bracing myself for a lonely night.

But business picked up around 6, when regulars returned from early family dinners badly wanting drinks sans relatives. And, knowing that I was working for the holiday, several friends turned up to surprise me, not a few bearing cookies and leftover pie and other gifts. Some sang along as my favorite holiday playlist issued from the speakers (including Rowlf and John Denver, naturally). I lit some extra candles, and soon enough you could feel some genuine Christmas cheer warming the room like the hot toddies warming my customers.

Even if there’s no room at the inn, there’s plenty at the pub.

COMFORT AND JOY: A sampling of bars open on Christmas.

Commonwealth

This place, known for things like its killer jukebox and Kentucky Derby Day party, will open at 8 p.m. on Christmas. Expect psychedelic holiday decorations and indie-rock Christmas anthems. 497 Fifth Avenue (12th Street), Park Slope, Brooklyn.

The Dead Rabbit

The upstairs parlor will be closed at one of New York’s great cocktail destinations, but the homey downstairs taproom will open at 5 p.m., offering delights like Irish coffee, hot whiskey punch and a special eggnog until it runs out. 30 Water Street (Broad Street).

Le Chéile

This Irish pub in Washington Heights will open at 11 a.m. Starting at 1 p.m. it will serve a prix fixe traditional Irish Christmas dinner, including roast turkey and baked ham. 839 West 181st Street.

Lulu’s

It’ll be a family affair at this cozy local starting at 8 p.m., with Patsy Monteleone playing Christmas tunes on the ukulele and Ani mixing holiday cocktails named after relatives like the Cousin Vince.

113 Franklin Street, Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

Tom and Jerry’s

This downtown stalwart will open at 4 p.m. On the menu: hot apple cider with bourbon and spice-laced “winter martinis.” 288 Elizabeth Street (East Houston Street).